A Normandy Story and a Paris Welcome

The following is taken from notes that my father John P. Weston made on his war experiences. He often talked about them and I am afraid it did provoke the reaction at times of “Not the war again, Dad”. It was only later that we came to realise what a life-defining period it was, and I persuaded him to write an account for his granddaughter, then studying World War Two at school. This is his story.

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I served in the RAF Codes & Ciphers Branch and first met Group Captain Winterbottom when I was called to SIS HQ in Broadway, London. All I learnt at the interview was it was concerned with a highly secret job. I was asked to report to 12 Hamilton Terrace,St. John's Wood, near Lord's Cricket Ground. It turned out to be a large private house with no indication of what went on there. Four more RAF personnel joined me. We signed the Official Secrets documents and for the next three weeks were indoctrinated into the mysteries of Enigma and the One-Time Pad code. I then spent some time in the Ministry of Defence in King Charles Street, Whitehall, before being seconded to General Bradley’s US 12th Army Group HQ.

Just after D-Day we moved to Southampton. There were eight of us, like many more we were in a camp and not allowed outside or to make any phone calls.

Around 7pm we made out way with our operations vehicle to the harbour and boarded a LVC — Landing Craft Vehicle. The next morning we zigzagged our way (to avoid enemy subs) across the channel and late at night were some little distance off our landing point. Sporadic bombing went on during the night from high-level German bombers. We slept where we could on the craft. Just as dawn was breaking the captain started up the engines (there was quite a roar), the ramp was dropped, we drove off and we were in France. I recall seeing a large sign OMAHA as we moved in. Engineers had blasted a makeshift road up the cliff and off we set.

The first place we made for was Saint Mere-Eglise, the first village to be liberated by the US 89th Airborne Division. It was badly bombed and the roads ruined. One GI parachuted down, but his chute fell on the church spire and a sniper's bullet killed hi, whilst he was hanging there.

We made our way to a little village near a copse — Laval. It had rained heavily and became very humid. In a clearing the GIs had set up trestle tables to hand out meals. We had portioned trays, but the Americans just had billycans to hold the meal of chicken and peaches. There were millions of wasps committing suicide in the fruit juice.

That first night I slept in a PUP tent (one man), but during the night it poured down and around 2a.m. my tent was flooded and my sleeping bag was in tow inches of water. There was a lot of thunder and some animals around went berserk. I managed to sort myself out and was on duty the next day at 8a.m.to get our equipment organised. I had a brief time off and went into the village. I saw some small bottles of brandy in a shop — and not much else, so I bought the lot (16 bottles) — they cost around 1/8 (under 10p.) a bottle!

A break out by British forces along with an American push that we followed, meant we reached St. Lo and Avranches. With the bomb damage it was difficult driving at any speed. We went through Le Mans, Chatres and then onto Versailles. We set up shop there and had a good hotel with peaches growing outside my bedroom window — but I could not reach them.

At this time I was getting 200 Chesterfield cigarettes a week, although I did not smoke. With the GIs in khaki and ourselves in blue, we were very conspicuous — more so as we were so few. We also got a jeep and as I was the only one who could drive, apart form the official driver, I used to go into Paris and park by the Eiffel Tower. Hundreds of Frenchmen gathered there trying to buy cigarettes.

Another time I got a lift into Paris to hear General de Gaulle make a speech at the Place de la Concorde. I was stopped by a Frenchman who said in English “RAF Sir? My name is Joseph Calmy. I was the Shell agent here before the war”. I offered him cigarettes and he then invited me to a building and gave me a bag full of Chanel perfume, toiletries, powder and cream — it lasted Mum for years. I flew back with it when I got some leave in March ‘45.

I needed to get back to Versailles for duty so I went to a gendarme and asked him to stop any car gong that way. He stopped a car that was burning charcoal and we made our way to Versailles, turning down a side street and pulling into a courtyard. I was motioned inside a large house and met the man’s daughter who spoke very good English. She said “My papa wants you to stop and have dinner with us”. We ended up in a café and went through some rush curtains into a back room. In a few minutes a man and a woman came in carrying a bag, which they unloaded to reveal eggs, butter, meat, grapes and champagne. I had a meal of steak with a large bunch of grapes.

When we came to leave it was as if I was walking on air — I floated out of the café.

[See also: Letters from France 1944]

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